


Hunger of Persephone

by thesetemplebones



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, Slow Sex, kind of smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3050486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesetemplebones/pseuds/thesetemplebones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke was frustrated in more than one way. She hated that she had no control over her desire for him. She hated that she become like many other girls; desiring Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger of Persephone

**Author's Note:**

> My first story of this fandom.

**C** larke was beyond mad at herself. She couldn't believe that she had spaced out, _yet again_ , and hurt herself, _yet again_. This was the fourth time this week that she had injured herself, but this was the first time that she actually required medical attention.

Instead of sitting in the medical bay, dealing with questions from her mother, she grabbed the necessary supplies and rushed back to her tent where she could stitch herself up, scolding herself the whole time, in privacy.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Clarke muttered as she took a wet piece of clean cloth, dipped it in Monty's moonshine, and wiped her cut. “Shit,” she hissed.

“Damn!”

Clarke's eyes shot up and over to the entrance of her tent, where Raven stood, looking at the cut on the palm of her hand with concerned eyes.

“Is that gonna need stitches?” Raven asked.

“No,” Clarke shook her head, “but I'm going to have to wrap it to keep it from getting infected.” She held up a black piece of cloth with her right hand, “help me?”

Raven moved, making sure her bum leg didn't knock anything, and sat beside Clarke on her bed. She grabbed Clarke's injured hand tenderly, and placed it in her lap, while she took the black cloth and bandaged it with her skillful hands. She made sure that Clarke would still be able to use her hand.

“What the hell did you do?”

“I cut it.”

Raven scoffed, “no shit.” She looked up at her friend, “what did you cut it with?”

“A knife,” Clarke said, watching as Raven wrapped her hand. “I was cleaning some supplies when I accidentally cut myself on one of the surgical knives.”

“At medical bay?” Raven asked.

“Mhm,” Clarke pulled her hand away and flexed her fingers. “It was early this morning. No one was in there.” She looked over to the other girl and saw her questioning gaze. “What?”

“You were already at medical bay but you came back to your tent to treat your cut?” Raven asked.

Clarke shrugged, “I didn't want to deal with my mother hovering and questioning.”

“Questioning what?”

“How I cut myself.”

“How did you cut yourself?”  
“I told you,” Clarke said, “with a knife.”

“Yeah, I know,” Raven waved her hand, “but how?”

Clarke shrugged and looked away from her, “I was distracted.”

“By what? You said no one was there.”

“I was just distracted,” Clarke mumbled and looked down at her bandaged hand. She began to pick at the cloth with her fingers, not really wanting to look at the other girl. She could already feel her cheeks warming at the thought of what caused her injury.

“Oh,” Raven spoke after a moment. “Got it now.”

“Got what?” Clarke asked.

“What distracted you,” Raven smirked, “ya know, this is the fourth time this week that you've been _distracted._ ”

Clarke scoffed. Raven started to laugh.

“How's your leg?” Clarke asked quickly.

“Great,” Raven smiled.

“Stop!”

“What?” Raven asked, smile still on her face.

Clarke shook her head and looked down at her hand once again.

“It's not bad that you've been distracted by him,” Raven said.

“Yes, it is,” Clarke answered quickly.

“Why?” Raven asked. “'Cause you've injured yourself or because it's him?”

“Him... both... injured,” she shook her head, “I don't know.”

Clarke frowned as Raven laughed, “this isn't funny.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Ever since Clarke had begun to get distracted by sexual thoughts of Bellamy Blake, Raven had teased her about relentlessly. In fact she had told her that she was surprised it had taken her this long to have fantasies about her co-leader. Clarke walked away from her friend, with a burning face, after she had said that. She didn't find this amusing at all. Clarke didn't know where the thoughts had come from all of a sudden but there they were. She couldn't even remember where it all started. It was just one day she woke up and saw Bellamy in a whole other way than just her co-leader and friend.

“It's Bellamy Blake,” Raven said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, come on, who hasn't had thoughts of sexing Blake up?”

“Exactly,” Clarke snapped. Bellamy was quite literally the sex God of their camp. It annoyed her that he could have practically any girl that he wanted.

Clarke was frustrated in more than one way. She hated that she had no control over her desire for him. She hated that she had become like many other girls; desiring Bellamy Blake.

“You could just fuck him,” Raven shrugged.

“Raven!” She gasped.

“I'm just saying,” she shrugged again, “it could solve all your problems.”

“Or just create more,” Clarke answered.

“How?” Raven raised an eyebrow.

Clarke quickly looked away from the other girl as her cheeks turned more red and she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Wait,” Raven said, “do you-?”

Clarke shrugged.

“Clarke, do you have feelings for him?”

“No,” she snapped, looking at her friend. “Yes... maybe...,” she shook her head, rubbing her forehead with her hand, she could feel a headache coming on. “It's just, it's Bellamy! He's this...,” Clarke held out her injured her to the entrance of her tent, as if she were gesturing to him, “and I'm..,” she gestured to herself with her hand.

“Amazing,” Raven answered.

“Complicated wreck,” Clarke argued.

“Who isn't?” Raven replied. “We're all messed up, Clarke. Including our beloved rebel leader. Are some more messed up than others? Yeah. Again though, look at what we've all been through.”

“He has enough to deal with,” Clarke sighed, “I would be just another burden.”

“Hey,” Raven reached out, grasping Clarke's non-bandaged hand, in her own, “he would be lucky to have you. You would not be a burden.”

Clarke gave Raven a small smile and squeezed her hand. She was really glad that she had her as a best friend.

“So,” Raven said after a moment, “you gonna get with him or not?”

“Shut up,” Clarke rolled her eyes.

* * *

 

Three days had passed since Clarke had cut her hand and her situation was still the same as it was three days before. She was still having daydreams of Bellamy while at the same time she was thinking about what she had told Raven. Did she have feelings for him? Did she want to be more than just a good time? Well, of course she did, but did she want it to be more because she had feelings?

Clarke thought Raven was going to suffocate because she was laughing so hard when Bellamy had questioned Clarke about her bandaged hand and Clarke, cheeks turning red, stumbled over an answer. She had really considered kicking Raven's bum leg in that moment.

“Clarke!”

Clarke shook herself out of her head and looked at Bellamy, who was standing in front of her with a concerned look on his face, “Yeah?”

“You okay?” He asked.

“Mhm,” Clarke nodded.

“You sure?” He asked, casually scanning her with his eyes, as if he were checking to see that she didn't have anymore injuries on her than the one hidden beneath the cloth on her hand.

“Positive, why?”

“I was only trying to get your attention for the past 5 minutes,” Bellamy answered.

“Sorry,” Clarke said and stepped past him to stand on the edge of the huge rock and looked out over the forest.

“Seriously though,” Bellamy stood next to her, “you good?”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded again, “just taking in the view.”

Bellamy nodded and looked out over the forest, “It is something.”

The sun was just setting in the far horizon and the light was trickling in through the trees, casting only light to the tops of the trees while the bottoms and forest floor were in the shade already. Clarke was suddenly aware of Bellamy's presence beside her. He was standing just close enough to her that if she stretched her fingers out, they would brush against his. With the thought of doing that, her hand began to tingle with a sensation that she had never had before.

She flexed her fingers.

From the corner of her eye, she watched him. She watched as Bellamy stood and stared out at the setting sun with nothing but serene on his face. She couldn't remember when the last time Bellamy looked peaceful.

“We better get back,” Bellamy's gruff voice broke the silence and her thoughts.

Clarke nodded, not trusting her voice. Bellamy turned and began the walk back to the camp with her following behind him.

Clarke defiantly had feelings for Bellamy Blake.

Two weeks had passed since Clarke had cut herself and it had healed two days ago, allowing her to remove the cloth from her hand. Since Clarke had figured out that she did indeed have feelings for Bellamy, she was no longer only having daydreams about him. She had begun dreaming about him. Which only frustrated Clarke even more because she wasn't getting any sleep.

Raven had stated that she needed to suck it up and have sex with him because Clarke was a danger to herself and everyone else by being distracted and sleep deprived.

Clarke needed a new best friend.

What's worst is that people had begun to notice that something was off with her. She got questioned by her mom, Monty and Jasper while she got concerned glances from Bellamy and his sister. Of course Clarke brushed them all off and said that she was okay. And of course everyone accepted the answer but the Blake siblings.

Damn them.

The cold night air was a relief to a warm Clarke. She wish she could say that she was only warm because she was sitting in front of the huge bonfire but she couldn't. She was warm because she was watching Bellamy. And damn did he look good in firelight. The way the light reflected on his olive skin, made him seem warmer somehow.

Bellamy and Clarke had decided that their people needed to let go and have a night of celebration. So, Monty and Jasper, with no questions asked, brewed up some of their moonshine while everyone else gathered wood to make a huge bonfire. Music was playing, from a radio that Raven made, with help from Monty and people were dancing.

Clarke had danced some with Octavia because the girl had all but dragged her off the log that she had made her seat and she laughed when Jasper spun her around. She was now sitting down on said log with a glass of moonshine in her hand. While most were beyond their first, Clarke was still nursing hers. She didn't want to get drunk.

That wouldn't be a good idea.

No matter what was going on, Clarke's eyes always seemed to find Bellamy. It was beyond her control. He was laughing and the fact that he was enjoying himself, and had been all night, made her happy. Truly happy.

As Clarke allowed her gaze to move back over to him, a frown appeared on her face. Bellamy was talking to a girl. She looked away and took a sip, gulp, of her moonshine before she looked back. She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach when she saw the girl lead a smirking Bellamy away from the fire.

Clarke hated how water appeared in her eyes and she took another gulp of her moonshine. Maybe she would get drunk tonight.

“He likes you too.”

Clarke looked up and found Octavia standing beside her. She looked to where Bellamy was once standing before she looked back to his sister.

“I know you like him,” Octavia said, “and I know he likes you too. You can't see it but he does.”

“Yeah, that's why he went with her,” Clarke nodded in the direction that Bellamy and his fling walked off to.

Octavia shook her head with a smirk, “nothing is going to happen if you don't do something, Clarke.”

Clarke watched as the dark haired girl turned and walked back to Lincoln who was waiting for her. She wrapped her arms around the man's neck, as the man in turn, wrapped his own around her, pulling her to him.

She watched the pure love and happiness that wrapped around the couple.

Clarke wanted that.

Standing, she finished the rest of her moonshine, before she walked off in the direction of Bellamy's tent.

She missed the look that was shared between Raven and Octavia.

* * *

 

Clarke saw the torch that was placed outside of his tent and she stopped. She chewed on her bottom lip as she listened. She couldn't hear any noise or anything. That didn't mean anything though. She knew that if she turned and walked away now than she wouldn't do anything about it.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke moved forward and entered his tent in a rush.

She was surprised and grateful to find Bellamy alone in his tent. However, she lost all sense when she found him sitting on his bed, untying his boots, shirtless. He was shirtless.

Bellamy looked up from untying his boots and frowned, “Clarke?”

“Uhm,” Clarke felt warm, “I-I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Bellamy finished untying his boots and pulled them off, placing them on the floor by the top of his bed, with his socks balled up on the floor. He stood up from the bed, “what's up?”

She felt very warm. Her blue eyes scanned his body and she could feel her cheeks turning warm. In fact she knew that her cheeks were red but if he asked she would blame the fire and moonshine.

“Don't you...uhm,” Clarke gestured to the bed with her hand, “company?”

“What?” He scrunched his eyebrows and glanced back at his bed before he looked back to the blonde haired girl in front of him. Then he got it, “Oh! No.”

“Oh,” she nodded, “good.”

“Good?”

Clarke widened her eyes, “Not good as in _good_ but good as in... good.” She wanted to set herself on fire. “No interruptions. That's-”

“Good?” Bellamy interjected.

Clarke looked up at him and saw him smirking at her with his dark eyes gleaming. Clarke sighed and shook her head. She couldn't do this. Anything else but admitting her feelings. She didn't do this. She didn't like this. She hated feeling vulnerable and unsure and so not in control.

Suddenly, she felt the brush of fingertips against her cheeks.

Glancing up, she found Bellamy standing directly in front of her. When the hell did he walk over to her? His dark eyes stared into her blue eyes and she found herself unable to look away. She didn't want to.

Bellamy brushed a piece of her hair away from her face, allowing his finger to trace down her face and the side of her neck. Clarke shivered and closed her eyes. She was in so much trouble that he could make her feel like that with just his fingertip.

Opening her eyes, she found him still staring at her, his gaze heated and intense. He reached out with both of his hands and held her face, while she reached up with her own and wrapped her fingers around his wrists, neither looking away from each other.

Clarke could do this. She loved the fact that her and Bellamy didn't need words to communicate with each other. That they could communicate with each other with their body language, with just a look.

He leaned in, her breath brushed over his lips, before they met hers. Clarke's whole body began to tingle while her lips sparked. This feeling she loved. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers. Clarke released another breath before she opened her eyes.

She found that he still had his closed, she brushed her nose against his, he opened his eyes. She found them to be more heated but still holding that tenderness. He leaned in to kiss her again, catching her bottom lip between his.

Clarke soon found herself laying on his bed with him hovering over. He kissed along the side of her neck, brushing his lips over the surface of her skin, stopping to nibble on her earlobe, sucking on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

She ran her fingers through his messy dark hair, tugging occasionally, running her fingers up and down his back, making him bend and purr like a cat. She sighed into his ear, the hot hair blowing against his hair.

He leaned down and left hot kisses from her chin down to the waistband of her jeans. His dark orbs stared up at her and she stared back, running her fingers through his hair, brushing away the pieces that had fallen into his eyes.

Bellamy removed her jeans, throwing them over his shoulder, pausing to look at her, before he kissed his way up her body. Starting from her ankle and going all the way to her neck, nipping at her inner thigh along the way.

Clarke was shaking by the time he was done and he leaned up, kissing the tip of her nose. She smiled and pulled him to her, cradling his head as he breathed against her neck.

The moment was soon back to being heated as Bellamy began to brush his fingers along her skin, tracing her body with his fingertips.

Clarke _fucking_ loved this.

The following morning, Clarke woke up on the other side of Bellamy, who was still sleeping soundly beside her. Only a thin sheet covered both of their naked bodies and without the heat from last night to keep her warm, Clarke was feeling the cold of the early morning air. She snuggled more into him and spread her fingers, of her left hand, out on his abs.

It was only a moment later when she felt his fingertips brushing against the skin of her back, making her to be the one to stretch like a cat this time.

“How did you really cut your hand?” Bellamy's voice was rough.

“I was fantasying about you while cleaning medical supplies,” Clarke answered, “cut myself on a knife.”

Bellamy's body shook as he laughed and brought said hand up to his mouth and kissed the faint scar that was on her palm.

“Smooth, princess.”

“How did you really get this bruise on your stomach?” Clarke asked.

“I was fantasying about _you_ while training with Lincoln.”

Clarke smiled and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to said bruise.

“Well done, knight.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> -MD xo


End file.
